


Broken Dishes

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Abuse, Domestic Violence, I don't know what I'm doing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, butim tired as hell so same difference, fuck my life, how does one tag, jk it's not midnight, midnight tingz, overprotective Spot Conlon, sprace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I hate this but i'm bored so, hey ima post anyways.it's pretty much a Sprace fic, mixed with some Foster Care stuff, because the system is the dumbest shit I've ever known. ANyhow, enjoy :)TW: Physical Abuse
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Kudos: 27





	Broken Dishes

"Have you seen Race?" It was Spot. That was kind of a surprise. Spot mostly hung out with Hotshot and well, whoever else was over there.   
Jack shrugged it was normal for him to not see Race until lunch, but it _was_ lunch.   
"No, not yet" He said glancing around.   
Albert bit his lip "He wasn't there in first period bio, we had a test I thought he was coming late or something, was he in your math class?"   
Elmer shook his head "I don't know I was at the academic advisor person choosing courses for next year" They all glanced at Buttons.  
"He wasn't in Psych" She said looking up from her pasta "Maybe he's sick"   
The others nodded.   
"Why, do you wanna leave a message?" Albert added turning to Spot.  
"That's the problem" Spot sighed "He isn't replying to any messages"  
The boys (and buttons) all glanced down at their phones and sure enough he hadn't replied to anything in the past twenty two hours.  
"Maybe he's sick" Buttons added slightly less confident this time.   
"If he was sick, he'd be whining about it endlessly" Jack answered.  
"I'm sure he'll come around" Elmer added "Maybe he lost his phone"  
"Then he'd be at school" Spot replied.  
"It almost as though you don't want to look at the bright side at all-"   
"Yeah no shit-"  
Jack was glancing around "fuck, didn't he just move foster homes? I don't even know where he lives now"   
"I've got his address" Albert added "Someone should go see if he's home, or sick or something'  
"He probably isn't " Jack muttered. "You do know this is why we call him Racer yeah" He sighed.   
"He hasn't ran in years" Elmer countered.  
"Maybe he's sick" The curly haired girl offered one more time.   
Spot sighed and walked away, defeated. 

Fourth and fifth period were excruciatingly slow. Spot was watching the second hand of the clock. Jack said he'd check in on Race after school. Spot was waiting for a text to say that Race was fine, and just in a mood, or that his phone coincidentally broke while he was sick. 

"Hello, Is Ra- Antonio here? I brought his work, he wasn't at school today" Jack smiled once a woman opened the door.  
"Oh yes, he's just a bit under weather, it's so sweet of you to drop of the work" She smiled grabbing the stack of papers.   
"May I see him? I mean if that's alright-" Jack asked awkwardly shifting his weight. He had a weird gut feeling about everything.  
"He's just taking a nap right now, he's been exhausted, maybe come back tomorrow" She added with a smile.  
"But if you'd like to come on in for a second I can check to see if he's awake" She added opening the door wider. The invite settled Jack's nerves to an extent.   
"Thank you, it's alright, just want him to get better soon, have a good one Ms.-"  
"Thornton" She smiled.

Jack texted Spot with as much detail as possible about his interaction. Spot still wasn't buying it. He was pacing about his bedroom before flopping onto his bed and texting Jack.

"ok but why didnt she let u see him"  
"cuz he was sleeping"  
"what? He doesn't fucking sleep"  
"hes sick tho"

Race was lying in his bed doing literally nothing when he noticed a fucking _person_ on the lawn. It was a one story house and someone was walking in the yard. He'd heard Jack come over earlier, sick, funny. He opened the window. He couldn't get the screen open from the inside but at least he could talk to Jack- no Spot. Holyfuck. Spot came. Why was Spot here?.

"Spot" Race hissed. "What the hell are you doing"   
"Are you okay? Are you sick?" Spot whispered back coming up to the window.   
"Come in" Race added. "Screen slides from your side"

And so, Spot climbed through Race's window. In the light change he noticed the bruises on Races cheek. He kneeled on the bed across from Race and lightly ran his hand over the bruised area causing Race to flinch.   
  
"How'd you get that" Spot whispered. He pretty much already knew, but it would be easier to ask anywyas.  
"I- I ran into a wall" Race replied biting his lip slightly.  
"Then why weren't you at school?"  
"I didn't want to go?"  
"Then why didn't you text me?"  
"Because- I don't have my phone" That one was true.  
"Why not?"   
"okay fuck off, you're here can't we just, I dunno, do something else?" Race leaned in and kissed the shorter boy. Spot kissed back before pulling away.   
"You're distracting"   
A hint of smirk covered Race's face "That's the goal"   
"Can you please just tell me what happened."  
"You're not gonna fucking drop it are you?"   
"no"   
  
Race explained how he'd woken up late, and was rushing a little bit, and then he broke a couple dishes, and well then his Foster Father lashed out and slapped him, and obviously he pushed back, and then he received a second slap, and then his Foster Sister stepped in, which was pretty cool of her, and then his Foster Mother freaked out and didn't want Race going to school because 'they need the foster-kid income' and they didn't want anyone to worrry about him. Then he was texting Jack to tell him he wouldn't be at school, and to make up some lie about getting in a fight, or having a panic attack, or anything, and his phone was swiped. Spot honestly forgot how fucked the system was. So fucking fucked. Too many people wanted the 'income' it was the bare minimum to pay to support a child, and these people use it for themselves. Spot wrapped his arm's around Race pulling him into a hug.

"I thought you hated hugs" Race whispered.  
"I do" Spot whispered back.

Race snickered awkwardly.  
  
"Why does this stuff always happen to me?" He groaned pulling away from the hug.  
"are you gonna run?" Spot asked.   
"No"  
"are you going to report it?"  
"it's easier to keep your mouth shut" He shrugged. "Bruises heal" he was being way too nonchalant.   
Spot's stomach dropped. "Oh fuck no Race, don't tell me your just going to sit and-"  
"You're talking too loud, they'll hear you"   
"Please just tell someone"   
"I'd rather run-"  
"Race please"  
"I told you"  
"Racer"  
"You know what Spot just lay off, like you got adopted a year after entering the system? So maybe, this isn't normal for you, but fuck, this is honestly way better then some other places, if you're just going to be all pissy than why did you even come-"  
"Race I'm not being _pissy,_ I'm pissed, but this isn't fucking normal"  
"Well it is too me, just go" He sighed slumping down. Spot headed towards the window.  
"Please don't tell Jack-" Race added sitting upwards.  
"Race this is serious you have to tell someone"   
"I wish I hadn't fucking told you in the first place. You're so god damn controlling, just go for fuck sake"   
"sorry" Spot whispered. He wanted to stay, but god the venomous glare he received definitely sent the message.

Race wanted to cry. He was just fucking over everything. This was a better home than a lot. I mean nothing could beat his last one, he was pretty disappointed when he had to leave. At least, although, some people here stood up for him. Fuck Spot fucking Conlon. 


End file.
